Detachment
by Vanishing Roses
Summary: Even with money, Life is tough.That is how aspiring vocalist Kaine feels. And when these feelings start to send him in a downward spiral into destruction, can Count D's last ditch effort to save the young man work? Or is he too far gone? [On Hold]
1. Part 1

**Disclaimer:** I do not own PSoH and I am not associated with "Cursive" in anyway. Darn. BUT…Kaine is MINE!!! All MINE!! Nya-haha

**Author's Note:** Well, this is the reposting of 'Detachment' which I took down the first time in my own blinded rage. XD And, am I glad I did? Hell, yeah!!! Power to ME! Damn you, Lint, damn you!! I also decided to change this story a LOT from how I wanted to finish it a few months ago, when I was a happy person. Since, it's no longer a plot spoiler I'll go ahead and tell you I was planning to take a depressed Kaine, add a pet, add symbolism and get a 'happy' ending, but now I realized that life's a major bitch, and if I have to go through a rough, lonely and friendless life, then, by God, so will Kaine!!

**Story Note:** From this point on, there will be LOTS of blood, LOTS of swearing and LOTS of death. I hope you enjoy it! If you don't like that, then, F off!! And I mean that in the nicest way. Really.

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**PART 1**

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_Cut it out- Your self-inflicted pain  
Is getting too routine  
The crowds are catching on  
To the self-inflicted song_

How is it that I wound up here, on this stage, with a screaming crowd in front of me? I remember how it used to be, a quiet life with my mother, older brother and my girlfriend. But, then again, when I take a good long look at my old life, I wonder who I'm trying to kid. My life may have been quiet, but that was only because everyone was screaming in a muted anguish.

My mother was never home when I was a kid. Instead she was at every bar within a thirty mile radius of our city; dancing, drinking, and sleeping with anyone who had the money. She would come home very late at night, or really early in the morning, climb into my small bed and start crying, while stroking my hair. Around that time, I would wake up, take her into the kitchen and make her a cup of tea to sooth her nerves, and for a few hours she would act like how a mother should; calm, collected and loving. I won't stand here and tell you that what she did was right, but she did it to support us. However, as a kid, and even now, I will say this; I would have much rather slowly starved to death then to ever see my mother cry.

_Well, here we go again  
The art of acting weak  
Fall in love to fail  
To boost your CD sales  
(And that CD sells- yeah, what a hit)  
You've got to repeat it_ __

My brother wasn't much better off. Since he turned eighteen he had become addicted to drugs. He didn't care what it was, so long as it took him away from reality. But it wasn't always that way. My brother tried his best to get a job, but every place in our close-minded town refused him because it had become common-knowledge that my brother was homosexual. My brother was one of the smartest people in the whole town, reading Darwin at the age of ten, a genuine super-genius, but nobody cared about that. Nothing went well for my brother. He was the target of innumerable hate crimes because he was gay, our mother was a prostitute, we were poor, and our father had packed up and left because he just couldn't handle us. It had gotten so bad that, one day he almost committed suicide. __

_you gotta' sink to swim  
If at first you don't succeed  
you gotta recreate your misery  
'cause we all know art is hard  
young artists have gotta starve_

I had walked down into our small basement and found my brother and his boyfriend, John, grappling and kicking. At first, I had thought they had gotten into a fight, but then I saw my poor brother was crying, a knife was in his hand and was screaming, "I can't take it anymore! I can't take it anymore!" John saw me and screamed to me to get the knife away from my brother. When I had gotten the weapon away from my brother, he collapsed into John's arms and started beating his chest with his fists, before breaking down and bawling. I couldn't take it anymore. I ran. I don't even remember where I went, but about six hours later I went back home and found my brother on the couch, asleep, and John on the couch opposite of him, his face contorted into a very serious expression. When he heard me walk into the room he got up and walked over to me.  
"Take care of him for me," he said and walked away, never turning around again.

_Try, and fail, and try again  
The comforts of repetition  
Keep churning out those hits  
'Till it's all the same old shit_

When my brother finally woke up he asked, "Where's John?" I said he left. My brother replied, "Figures," gave me a small bitter-sweet smile and went back to the basement. That hurt smile was the last human expression I saw on my brother, because after that he went to drugs and had a perpetual smile on his face.  
My poor, poor brother, wherever you have gone, do you realize you left your body and me behind?

_Oh, a second verse!  
Well, color me fatigued  
I'm hiding in the leaves  
In the CD jacket sleeves  
  
_

My girlfriend. What on earth can I say about her? Absolutely nothing, that's what. She was never there. She only even recognized me as her boyfriend whenever she wanted something, like a ride in my car or a trip to the movies. One day, I got tired of it all and dumped her. She called me a filthy bastard, but who cares? I was finally rid of her.

_Tired of entertaining  
Some double-deaf meaning  
__A soft serve analogy  
These drunken angry slurs  
In thirty-one flavors_

Soon, I don't even remember how old I was at the time, I ran away from home and joined a band. First, I started out as one of the stage hands, but after being caught singing my heart out once when I thought everyone had gone, I was made a back-up singer. Not too long after that, I became the lead singer.

_You gotta' sink, gotta' sink, gotta' sink to swim  
Immerse yourself in rejection  
Regurgitate some sorry tale  
About a boy who sells his love affairs_

So, there you have it; My Life. Wonderful, isn't it? It has to be something, considering all of these people have come to my concert just to hear me sing about that Hell I used to live in. I can try to communicate my feelings through these useless words, but it doesn't seem to be working. In the darkened nightclub where we're playing tonight, I can see the faces of the people that are listening to me. Do they even understand what I'm trying to tell them? Do they want to understand? No, they don't. That's why, even though I must have walked a million miles away from Oblivion, I'm still somehow alone in a crowd. I can't stand it anymore!

_You gotta' fake, gotta' fake, gotta' fake the pain  
You gotta' make, gotta' make, gotta' make it sting  
You're gotta' brake, gotta' brake, gotta' brake a leg  
When you get on stage  
And they scream your name!_

Listen to me! Listen to me! I want you to know me! Not the fake me! The real me! The ME inside of this apocryphal dissimulation! Do not misconstrue my words as meaningless lyrics! Please listen! I need you, want you to listen! Understand! Understand! Understand ME!!

_You gotta' sink, gotta' sink, gotta' sink to swim  
Impersonate greater persons_

The room swims. The people blur. The colors suddenly fade into black. The noise is drowned into nothingness.  
The song that I've been singing since my birth is finally over.   
  
_'Cause we all know art is hard  
When we don't know who We are  
  
_


	2. Part 2

**Disclaimer:** I don't own PSoH, but Kaine is MINE…to do with as I like. Muhaha…

**A/N:** I've been having a pretty depressing year so far and I think I finally found my method of venting: Writing melodramatic stories at 1 AM. Hey, we all gotta have SOME way, ne? I LOVE writing Kaine's life! I feel so..so..ENPOWERED! Muhahahahaha!!!!!! Gomen, power rush. Heh. Well, anyway, read and review! Yes, you too, Fwooshy-chan. If you like it, leave a nice comment, if you didn't like it, well, I really don't care! You can flame, but it's not like I'm writing it for YOU flamers out there! I'm writing it for every person who ever had to suffer silently, wiping away translucent tears before anyone could see! That and it keeps me from setting small children from the park on fire. Again.

**Story Note: **If you read the last chapter, welcome back, you haven't missed much. Just as an FYI, this story will have a very weird update schedule. As you can probably tell from the four month waiting period from the first chapter. It depends on how I'M feeling. Well, I won't keep you any longer. Read on, fellow sufferers, read on!

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A small child, standing above a body crumbled to the ground.

A mother, dying slowly before the eyes of her own child, her eyes frozen open from the fear that had washed over her in her very last second of breath. Eyes that are latched onto the image of the child.

A father, coming upon the two a knife in one hand.

The child looks up at his father, without a tear in his eye but a smile on his lips, and utters the words:

_"Father, are you going to kill me too?"_

The father falters, but resumes moving upon the child. He says:

_"I-I had to kill her! To get her away from _you_! You're a demon!"_

The child walks to the father and grabs his hand in his own, the knife included. Putting the knife next to his own chest, the child whispers in a voice not that of an innocent child:

_"Then you should just kill me."_

And plunges the knife deep into his own heart and falls to the ground, that smile still on his face.

A second later, a demon was born to mortal parents.

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Detachment

Part 2

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I opened my near-crimson eyes. I looked around. It was white, so very white. The attempted purity of that hotel room sickened me. There was nothing pure about that place. But, then again, there's nothing pure left anymore. I heard a voice and I looked towards the door.

The door knob turned and a woman stepped inside. At first, I forgot who she was, but then is hit me. Purple hair and orange eyes; it was Mercy.

"Well, seems you finally up there, Kaine. We been worried about you, ya know?" she said as she walked over to the bed and sat down next to me. "What exactly happened out there?"

I was not quite sure what to say to her. I could have said the truth, but the problem with that was, I didn't know that truth.

"It was nothing," I lied to her. I really don't like lying, but sometimes it's just one of those things that you just have to do to avoid confrontation. Not wanting to look into her prying eyes anymore, I turned my head away from her.

Mercy moved over to me and sat down on the bed and stoked my hair, as if I was a small child again. "You know, mate," she said comically, "if there's ever anything you want to get off your chest, there will always be Mercy for you!" She gave my hair one last ruffle and walked to the door.

But, for some reason I didn't hear the door open and shut. I turned my head and I saw Mercy staring at the fish tank built into the room. The same fish tank I put my favorite fish in when we first got to the city.

"What is it, Mercy?" I asked her, not really understanding her actions and a bit frightened at the way she was staring so intently at the tank.

Suddenly she snapped out of whatever reverie she was in. "It's just…Kaine, your fish. They're all dead."

I simply looked at her. Sure, I did like those fish, but it was nothing to loose reality to. What did it matter to me is a bunch of fish died. Lucky them.

"I think you should get a different pet, Kaine. I'll ask Rave if he'll take you, alright?" Mercy suggested and left even before I even had a chance to complain. Whenever Mercy brought Rave into the conversation, she meant she wanted something done. And quickly.

It's not that I didn't like the band's mysterious guitarist; it's just…he made me very uneasy, and I preferred to stay away from him when we weren't forced to do a concert together.

I got up and got dressed as fast as my fatigued body would allow. I left the hotel room and went over to the main desk to see if they knew of a pet shop around the area.

"A pet shop?" the lady at the desk mused to herself out loud, "Well…there is one only about two blocks from here. But…it's been getting some bad reputation on the streets lately. They say that they are really selling slaves and drugs and that the pets are just a distraction."

"Really?" I asked, not really caring either way. What did it matter to me? I wasn't part of the police force around here and I wasn't about to go vigilante.

"Yeah, but, don't worry!" the lady continued more cheerfully, "I had the pleasure of having tea with the proprietor just a few weeks ago and he is one of the kindest men around! There is no way he could ever do something like! Besides…he's really into animals, so I think that he would be the best person to go to for your gold fish dilemma! I'll go ahead and give you the directions then, Mr. Kaine…" She brought out a small slip of paper and with a red pen, she scribbled down the address.

"Thanks, "I murmured and headed towards the pet shop. On the streets, I was thankful that no one seemed to pay me any mind.

As strange for someone like me, who seems like he likes to be the center of attention, it was nice being able to just melt in with everyone else. To not have anyone care for you, to not have to live for someone else.

After about a block, I heard what sounded like a little girl screaming. I turned my head and saw three boys picking on a little girl next to an ally way. From where I was standing it seemed that they had taken her little puppy and were beating it's skull in, the puppy whining loudly under their blows.

Suddenly, the girl looked at me, tears in her eyes, "Help me, please!" she screamed at me, desperation in her voice.

Without even realizing what I was doing, I move a step closer to her and the continuing slaughter. Only one step, though, and I stopped. I stopped. I was so close to them that I think I could even smell the blood in the air, a lingering metallic smell that made me feel disgustingly at ease.

The girl just stood there and stared at me, no longer screaming for my help when she realized that I wasn't going to do anything but watch. She stood there, tears in her eyes her mouth open with disbelief.

With a final yelp, the puppy stayed motionless and the boy, satisfied for their own reasons, moved away from the puppy. Making their way to the girl, they pushed her down and said menacingly, "Don't ever think about crossing us again, or you'll be next!" Seeing the girl completely silent from fear and disbelief, they left, laughing all the while.

Slowly, sheepishly, the girl lifted her head and stared at me with fear and confusion in her eyes. "W-why didn't you help me even though I begged you to?" she asked me, her young voice straining to keep steady.

I didn't know what to say, so I said nothing at all. I turned back around and was about to keep walking when I heard her voice again, "He didn't deserve it. It was my fault," I turned around and saw her, on her hands and knees, by the bloodied animal, tears falling to the ground. But, it wasn't sadness in her voice. Instead it was an emotion that I knew quite well first hand. It was that emptiness, that resignation, which comes when you know that you did something irreversibly horrible to someone else.

"I could have done something. I'm a horrible person. What have I done? What have I done!" the child continued like that for a few minutes as she held the puppy against her body, not caring that the blood was seeping into her clothing.

As much as I wanted someone else in the world to suffer as I always had, I could stand to see the girl like that. I walked over to her and took the puppy from her, its entire body fitting in my hands. And, without saying a word I walked away, this time in the opposite direction of the pet shop. I walked for a few block before I realized that the girl was following me, rubbing her eyes every few minutes to wipe away the tears.

Finally, we both got to the place I was looking for; a small, isolated park at the border of the city. Walking though the dense trees I found a spot and dropped to my knees and started digging a hole. The whole time, the girl just stood there and watched me work. After the hole was done, I looked towards the girl, "I've dug the grave, but it's your choice where you want to go from here." I got up and walked away from her. After a few feet I turned my head and saw the girl putting the puppy's body into the ground, without a tear and slowly piling the dirt on it.

Satisfied, though that didn't quite seem appropriate in that case, I left the girl to her mourning.

After about two hours, I finally made it to the pet shop. And quite the building it was. It had an oriental design, giving it an air of mystery.

Opening the door I stepped in, greeted by a pair of mismatched eye, set upon a heavenly beautiful porcelain angelic face. The eyes however, were as far away from an angel as you could get.

"Welcome, sir, to Count D's pet shop. What pet do you desire?"

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Sai: OK, OK! I know it look me a looooooooooong time to finally update this story…I'm a very slow typist. Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter! I'm thinking that I might actually post another, less depression, fan fiction for pet shop some time in the VERY near future, so look forward to it!

Hope you liked this chapter! If you liked it review and make this one a happy person, if you didn't review and help me by telling me what I can do to make it better. Thanks in advance!


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